


We fell from the sky and started walking

by silvervelour



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Overly Emotional Sex, Song fic, jan is a big dyke she just doesn't know it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/pseuds/silvervelour
Summary: Jackie turns her head slowly, and Jan peers up at her from where she’s been resting her head on her shoulder. She smiles sheepishly, purses her lips, but doesn’t look away from Jackie’s soft stare. Jan realises, somewhere in the depths of Jackie’s irises, that this is how it’s always been. For her, Jackie has always been it, whether she’s wanted to admit it to herself or not. As long as they’ve known each other - it’s been decades at this point - Jan has known that Jackie is to her what stars are to space. Jan had once read something about meteorites scattering upon impact, and how they’d traipse the earth trying to find their lost fragments. With Jackie, however, it’s as if they fell from the sky and started walking.“Why did you call me?”. Jackie whispers.Jan thinks about it, though only for a second.“I just wanted to… not think for tonight-”. Jan tells her.
Relationships: Jackie Cox/Jan Sport
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	We fell from the sky and started walking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JuniperJam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuniperJam/gifts).



> hi lovelies!! this is part of a fic exchange, and mine is for the ever so talented @juniperjam! it's inspired by the song let go for tonight by Foxes, so I'd recommend listening to that!!
> 
> I got really attached to these gals while writing them, so I hope you enjoy this as much as I do!!
> 
> happy holigaaaaays !

Jan makes two lists, sometime towards the end of spring.

**Things that bring me happiness**

**Things that** **_don’t_ ** **bring me happiness**

She writes them sitting on her window seat with the curtains pulled wide open, deep into the early hours of the morning. Light seeps in from the street lights outside, as well as the moonlit sky that blankets her in navy, a sheen of silver. Her hand is gripping her pen tightly - a cheap bic one that she’d found at the bottom of a drawer - and she’s scribbling illegible cursive as if the knots of her  _ e’s _ and  _ i’s _ are going to unravel her thoughts. She’s wearing nothing apart from an unbuttoned white shirt over pink cotton underwear because the warmth of spring means she doesn’t have to, and has her hair piled high in a dishevelled bun. The strands framing her face have long since escaped the hold of her satin scrunchie, and Jan huffs them away when they tickle at her cheeks. 

She finishes the first one with ease - things that  _ do _ bring her happiness - because there isn’t much to think about. She’s able to rattle off the things in life that bring her pleasure as easily as she’s able to recite the alphabet, and as quickly as she’s able to learn every lyric to her favourite new-release. Jan knows that anyone who ever has or ever will know her would blame it on her relentless optimism, but Jan sees nothing wrong in admitting when something makes her feel good; for the most part. She thinks that guilty pleasures are ludicrous, and that they only exist with the sole idea of diminishing people's enjoyment. 

**Things that bring me happiness**

_ Cats (all kinds of cats) _

_ Singing in the shower _

_ Listening to Christmas music when it’s not Christmas  _

_ Glitter (but not the chunky kind) _

_ The colour purple (not the book or the film with Whoopi) _

_ Pasta  _

_ The smell of new magazines _

_ Sunsets that make everything look pink  _

_ When restaurants forget to charge for extra guac _

_ Warm towels after you take a bath  _

_ Wine nights with the girlies (minus the hangover) _

_ Laughter _

And 

_ Jackie _ . 

Jan mulls over adding her name for as long as it takes for a car on the road below to travel from one end of the street to the other. It moves sluggishly, as if in slow motion, but Jan knows that she’s not going to be able to resist the temptation that is Jackie and every small pleasure she brings to Jan’s life. She’s as warm as the heated towels that Jan drapes over her shoulders after bubble baths in the winter, and as comforting as her favorite pasta dish. Jackie makes Jan laugh as much as her wine nights with Lagoona, Rosé and Izzy, and she’s never turned down an opportunity to watch the sun rise or set from their favourite scenic spot on the cliff tops along the coast. 

She always sits there with her chocolate hair flowing, curling around her shoulders and getting caught in her line of sight. The wind makes the scent of her shampoo flood Jan’s nostrils, and with views of the jagged ocean Jan is able to smell soft vanilla, subtle coconut. They eat burritos with extra guac that they buy from the all night food truck down the street, watch the night fade into glittering purples that calm Jan’s soul while she rests her head on Jackie’s shoulder. Sometimes they talk about their days, their weeks, but Jan is grateful most of all for the way that their silences are always comfortable ones. 

It’s that thought that prompts her second list. 

**Things that** **_don’t_ ** **bring me happiness**

_ Uncomfortable silences _

_ Math  _

_ Colour clashing  _

_ When people don’t put salt in their pasta water _

_ Donald Trump  _

_ Vegan cheese  _

_ Fox news _

_ Mansplaining  _

_ Garlic bread that isn’t garlicky enough  _

_ People who stop in front of you when they’re walking  _

_ Violins  _

_ Sagittarius’ _

And 

_ Her boyfriend.  _

Jan stays quiet. She curls her bare toes into the cushions of her window seat, presses her forehead against the cool glass. Her fingers are growing sweaty as she grips the pen even tighter and she forces herself to put it down before she writes anything else. Because Jan knows that she doesn’t have it bad with him, not really. He’s good to her in all of the ways her mom had always told her a man should be when she was younger. He’s chivalrous - as outdated as it is - but not performatively so. He makes her breakfast most mornings even after all these years and Jan can’t fault him for his efforts, even if they no longer make her light up like they used to. 

Jan thinks of him as something concrete, certain, tried and tested and true. 

And most of all, kind. 

Though he’s not what Jan wants. 

In him, Jan is able to see what  _ should _ be. It comes in the form of future and marriage and children and the seat that she’s had at his family dinner table since she was a senior in college. It’s never felt like her own, has always been too uncomfortable to sit on in the presence of his mom’s looming gaze, his dad’s persistent chatter. She feels more at home in the warmth of Jackie’s two bed apartment than she ever has there and she counts it as a sign as she begins scrolling through her phone. Her thumb hovers over Jackie’s contact picture akin to an omen and Jan sighs, pulls her knees to her chest. 

It’s the context of being his  _ girlfriend _ that makes Jan feel uneasy more than anything else. As a friend - strictly a friend - Jan can imagine them thriving. He’s gentle, and makes her laugh, but he isn’t a woman and he isn’t  _ Jackie _ . Jan is unable to remember the last time they properly had sex, though she’s willing to place a bet on it being after a night out at a bar downtown. Shots of tequila and vodka and gin had always made it easier for her, but he hadn’t been oblivious. He’d always kept it quick, barbarically boring in missionary so that Jan could stop feigning her moans, her orchestrated whines. 

Afterwards, they’d never talk. 

It’s been an unspoken agreement for years, and ever since the winter they’ve both been defrosting. 

Jan has seen him look at his friend - the one with the beard and green eyes and love for plaid shirts - with a similar intensity that she reserves exclusively for Jackie. It makes their stagnant relationship feel worth it, almost, and it makes her chuckle into the stillness of the early hours. Her breath fogs up the glass of the window, and she lifts a hand to draw a line through it. Through the haze, she’s able to see the outline of their neighbours across the street, two figures loving, embracing, existing. The sight of it makes Jan gulp, but then she’s cracking and calling Jackie and pleading that she answers. 

_ She always does _ . 

“Jan?”. 

The line fizzles between them. 

“Hi”. Jan whispers. 

And then almost regrets it. 

Through the phone she’s able to hear Jackie yawning. It happens once, and then again, and Jan nearly hangs up before Jackie responds. The tiredness lacing her voice draws guilt to the back of Jan’s throat, but her apologies are quickly swallowed by Jackie’s reassurances. She tells Jan that  _ it’s ok _ , not to worry about it, and Jan closes her eyes to the sound of Jackie’s shallow breathing. Jan rests her temple back against the window and with her free hand she clutches a cushion to her chest. She fiddles with the zipper of it as she clears her mind of any hesitations, and then breathes Jackie’s name out between her lips. 

It’s a prayer, a hope.

“Can I see you?”. Jan blurts. 

The line continues to crackle. 

And Jan holds back from saying anything else. 

_ I need to get out of here.  _

_ I miss you. _

_ I want you. _

“Jan honey, it’s really late-”. Jackie chuckles. 

“-Are you sure?”. 

There’s no uncertainty to Jackie’s voice, only concern. Jan hears it in each of her words, and in the way she keeps her pitch low. Jackie is caring and kind and Jan is instantly calmed by the solidity of her presence. It’s why Jan mumbles an emotional  _ please _ as she lifts her head from the window, prepares to stand up and cross the room. She makes it to the kitchen before Jackie answers, but when she does, Jan feels lighter in the glow of the refrigerator light. Her fingers wrap around a chilled bottle of water, and she cracks open the seal as Jackie inhales, exhales shortly after.

“Alright-”. Jackie agrees. 

Jan can practically see her nodding through the phone.

“-I’ll be there in twenty”. 

*****

Jackie had said twenty, but she makes it in less than fifteen. 

She pulls up outside, her headlights illuminating the sidewalk, and Jan is able to make out the faint sounds of the radio before she approaches the passenger door. It’s melodic, soothing, and Jan is embraced by the retro beat as well as Jackie’s arms when she slides into her seat. Jackie has the warm air on but she also has a window half open, as if she’s trying to find the perfect balance. Jan thinks that she’s found it when Jackie pulls back, turns down the volume of the radio a handful of notches, and looks at Jan with worry and empathy. Instead of shying away from her gaze, Jan basks in her scrutiny.  _ He _ has never looked at Jan in the way that  _ she _ does and Jan lets herself enjoy it.

“Are you cold?”. Jackie asks her. 

Her eyes are inquisitive, concerned. 

Jan is too busy leaning into Jackie’s hand on her cheek. 

“What?”.

“Are you cold?”. Jackie’s voice is silky. 

“Cold?”. 

Jackie snorts out a gentle laugh, and then gestures towards Jan’s outfit. Before leaving, Jan had buttoned up her shirt, pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and pink, chunky sneakers. Her bare legs are slightly prickled with goosebumps and her hair is still as dishevelled as it was earlier in the night but Jan feels the opposite of cold. Jackie’s hand trails down from her cheek and to her shoulder, where she strokes her thumb across Jan’s collarbones. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip and then they’re both giggling, with Jan only then noticing the sweatpants and sweatshirt that Jackie is wearing. 

“Oh-”. Jan grimaces, her neck flushing red. 

She then smiles bashfully, laces her fingers with Jackie’s. 

“-I thiiiiiink I’m good?”. 

Jackie looks at her like she doesn’t quite believe her, and if Jan is honest with herself then she doesn’t quite believe herself, either. There’s no reason to keep up the facade with Jackie, but she finds herself doing so subconsciously. It’s years of a built up habit that she’s still trying to shake with her shivers and Jackie smiles knowingly, turns the key to reignite the engine. Over the noise of it, Jan is unable to hear the radio that’s still playing, but Jackie takes it upon herself to fix it. She then proceeds to press her foot to the gas, and when Jan crooks a questioning eyebrow -  _ where are we going? What are you thinking? What are we doing? _ \- Jackie simply shrugs. 

“Let’s just drive, yeah?”. Jackie simpers. 

Jan just nods her head, smiles, and sinks further into the passenger seat. 

*****

They drive for over an hour. 

Jackie guides them in and out of neighbourhoods, ones that Jan recognises and others that she doesn’t. Street lamps loom along roads, and Jan feels dwarfed by them until the air flooding in through the window begins to smell less like lawn clippings and more like salt water. Jackie gives her a warming smile when Jan chuckles at the realisation, and reaches over the centre console of the car to brush Jan’s hair away from her face. Jan leans briefly into her touch but then points to the road ahead, chastises Jackie for the way that she swerves noticeably to the left. The lane that leads them to the cliff top that Jan knows now to be less than five minutes away is dark, narrow, and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“ _ Jacqueline- _ ”. Jan warns.

“-Eyes on the road”. She drawls her words. 

Jackie hums affirmatively, but chances another look in Jan’s direction regardless. Jan shakes her head in disbelief, because Jackie’s grin is frustratingly endearing. Jan digs her teeth into the flesh of her cheek to stop herself from blushing though she’s not sure it works. Her face feels like it’s aflame as the cool night air splashes against her cheeks like the waves hit the rocks below, and she swears her heart rate can be heard beating out of her body when Jackie cuts the engine. The music keeps playing, and then between the bridge and the chorus Jackie turns towards her, narrows her eyes jokingly. 

“You’re distracting”. Jackie notes. 

She does so with a smirk, one that’s strikingly subtle. 

“Me?”. Jan blinks. 

Jackie nods her head slowly, as if waiting for Jan to catch up. She removes the keys from the ignition, and slips them into the pocket of her sweatpants while her eyes remain on Jan. Because they’ve been evolving for months, in miniscule ways and mutual tenderness, but within the safe space of Jackie’s car Jan feels things lock into place. It feels as if it happens all at once, and Jan pulls in a breath to steady herself. Jackie is fixing her hair in the rear view mirror and Jan is hyperfocused on each of her movements that are drawing her in, taking her apart. 

“Jan-”. Jackie deadpans. 

She’s still teasing, Jan’s able to hear it in her voice. 

“-If you’ve got me out of bed at this time of night, the least you can do is not play dumb”. 

The tension between them is reminiscent of their earlier phone call, when the static had crackled and the connection had fizzled stronger. Jackie’s voice permeates louder, until Jan’s able to hear her delicate words over the volume of the radio. The song is another that Jan doesn’t recognise, but she decides that it doesn’t matter when she gives into the pull of Jackie, and winds her arms loosely around her neck. Jan is so close that she’s able to smell the shea butter chapstick on Jackie’s lips but her heaving chest promises a taste. 

“Who said anything about playing, gorg?”.

*****

They settle on a patch of grass, a couple of strides away from the cliffs edge. 

Jackie pulls a plaid blanket from the trunk of her car, and settles it on the ground. It’s made up of squares of green and stripes of red and Jan’s chunky pink sneakers look like the perfect contrast to it. Jackie sits close to her, their shoulders pressed together. Jan knows that it’s too dark for them to properly look out towards the horizon where the neighbouring city slumbers, but the light of the moon catching on the torrid waves is enough. It makes Jackie’s usually golden hair appear silver, and Jan rakes her fingers through the curling ends whilst Jackie waxes lyrical about the history of the area. They’re facts and anecdotes that Jan’s heard a hundred times before - she thinks that she could recite them in her sleep - but she’d listen to them a hundred more. 

So long as they’re coming from Jackie. 

“And that-”. Jackie points towards a far off head of land. 

“Is where you used to vacation with your grandparents as a kid”. Jan finishes for her. 

She does it unintentionally. 

Jackie turns her head slowly, and Jan peers up at her from where she’s been resting her head on her shoulder. She smiles sheepishly, purses her lips, but doesn’t look away from Jackie’s soft stare. Jan realises, somewhere in the depths of Jackie’s irises, that this is how it’s always been. For her, Jackie has always been  _ it _ , whether she’s wanted to admit it to herself or not. As long as they’ve known each other - it’s been decades at this point - Jan has known that Jackie is to her what stars are to space. Jan had once read something about meteorites scattering upon impact, and how they’d traipse the earth trying to find their lost fragments. With Jackie, however, it’s as if they fell from the sky and started walking. 

“Why did you call me?”. Jackie whispers. 

Jan thinks about it, though only for a second. 

“I just wanted to… not think for tonight-”. Jan tells her. 

She’s being open, honest. 

“-Who else was I ‘gonna call?”. 

Her words hold a lot of weight, enough to snap the tension between them into two. Jackie’s breath catches in her chest, and Jan can hear it through her ribcage and the supple material of her sweatshirt. Her lips find Jan’s cheek, and when they get there they place a singular kiss to the apple of it. It makes Jan’s jaw clench, and then drop, but she doesn’t have time to react properly before Jackie’s standing up, stretching out the muscles of her legs. Jan blinks to regain her composure but finds that it’s lost to the shore and the depths of the water. 

“W-what?”. Jan looks up, confused. 

But Jackie is smiling down at her, holding out a hand for Jan to take hold of. 

“Remember we got trashed here one summer?”. Jackie reminisces. 

“That could be a lot of summers, Jacks”. Jan snorts. 

Jackie rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but Jan lets herself be pulled to her feet. 

“No no, think, remember  _ that _ summer. We had your mom buy us wine ‘cause we were broke college students, and spent the night dancing to the radio while Pri and Lem made out in the back of my truck for hours and hours and hours”. Jackie snorts. 

Her eyes light up at the memory, and Jan finds herself nodding. 

She remembers Lemon’s insistent chatter beforehand, when they’d applied lipgloss and smokey eyeshadow in the dim light of Jan’s dorm room. They’d been listening to Jan’s new bluetooth speaker, drinking cans of cheap pre-mixed cocktails. Lemon had spoken non stop about a girl named Priyanka for the duration of an entire album and by the end of that night, their relationship had been solidified. Jan also remembers how her and Jackie had laughed about it, teased them relentlessly, but above all else she recalls the feeling of Jackie’s hand in her own. 

_ The new.  _

_ The exciting.  _

_ The lasting.  _

Because it still feels the same. 

“Are you asking me to dance?”. Jan beams. 

And then Jackie nods, pulls Jan in close. 

“That’s exactly what I’m asking”.

*****

They turn Jackie’s car radio up, dance slow circles around the plaid blanket. 

Jan keeps her arms wrapped securely around Jackie’s shoulders, and Jackie’s own hands settle on Jan’s waist. Her touch travels occasionally, so that her fingertips are able to press against Jan’s hips through the fabric of her shirt and shorts, but Jan neither has the heart nor the want to tell her to stop. It feels nice for the touches to be intentional, for the need to be reciprocated, and for the denial to be getting washed away with the tide. Jan knows that there are conversations to be had with many people - the man in their shared bed back home, families, even Jackie herself - but they all seem like far away thoughts when Jackie begins smirking at her. 

“Y’know-”. Jackie starts. 

“-You’ve got  _ terrible _ taste in men”. She drawls. 

Her tone is light, teasing, and Jan plays into it. 

“As if your track record with women has been any better”. She retaliates. 

Jackie tilts her head, arches an eyebrow. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”. 

Jan winds her fingers in the hair at the nape of Jackie’s neck. 

“You know what I mean”. 

“No-”. Jackie grins. 

“-I don’t think I do”. 

_ Enlighten me _ , she’s telling Jan.  _ Tell me what you’re thinking _ , she’s asking, and Jan feels safe enough to do so. She’s watched from up close and from afar for years, as Jackie has navigated roads that had led to dead ends, followed maps that had sent her astray. Some have been better than others, and had at least shown her some worthwhile scenery along the way, but Jan wishes that others would have never appeared. She’s watched Jackie hurt, heal, but has never been the next destination in line. If Jan has been jealous then she’s kept it to herself, but Jackie’s fingertips crawling along her spine tell her that there’s no need to be. 

“Nicky. Junior year of college. Had the ego of Lem when she wears her favourite dress but the heart of a fuckin’ snowman”. Jan raises. 

Jackie sighs, accepting the challenge that Jan is embarking on. 

“I’ll let you have that one”. She relents. 

“ _ Nice- _ ”. Jan smirks. 

“-And then there was that journalist in the city, Gigi?”. 

“Gigi, yeah”. 

“Do I even have to say anything about her?”. Jan shivers. 

She knows that words aren’t needed for that experience. It’s when she’d seen Jackie at her worst, a dimmed down version of the light she’s always known her to be. Gigi had walked out of their apartment on the eve of Jackie’s birthday and had been in  _ Crystal’s _ bed before the end of the night. Jan has known Crystal since their shared dance class in college and thus couldn’t be mad at her, but she’d had all of the energy in the world to channel into calling Gigi every name under the sun; an adventure that Jackie as well as Lemon and Priyanka had joined her on. 

Jan continues listing names, and Jackie lets her. 

Until she doesn’t. 

“Well-”. She shrugs. 

Her lips skim Jan’s cheekbone, then up towards her temple. 

“-At least they could make me come”. 

Jan’s feet stop moving, and scuff against the grass at the edge of the blanket. She looks up at Jackie with wide eyes, a hint of a smile spreading across her face. It grows, a wave becoming a tsunami, and then she’s laughing, head falling into the crook of Jackie’s neck. There, she rests her lips. She’s able to feel the heat of Jackie’s skin against them as well as the thrum of laughter that’s still pulsing through Jackie’s veins. Jan groans then, and swats feebly at Jackie’s ass. The action makes Jackie jump, but then Jan lifts her head once more and -

_ Oh _ . 

“I thought we agreed never to mention that”. Jan pouted. 

Jackie’s eyes are intense, knowing. 

“You can’t expect me to forget  _ you _ , drunk on two bottles of wine, admitting he’s never made you come more than twice in one night”. She huffs. 

Jan knows that to Jackie, the confession had practically been a crime. They’d been sitting in Priyanka’s living room, with Lemon sprawled dramatically across her lap. Jan and Jackie had chosen to sit next to the coffee table where they could perch their bottles - Jan’s decorated with a lipstick stained straw - and the conversation had quickly wandered. There’d been discussions on sex and how they liked sex, and even how they didn’t. Priyanka had been shameless in divulging the in’s and out’s of what Lemon liked between the sheets as well as outside of them, and Lemon hadn’t been much different. Jackie had also been willing, but Jan had stayed quiet.

Until Jackie had coaxed it from her. 

One painfully alluring fact at a time. 

“Jackieeee-”. Jan whines. 

“-That’s not fair”. She exaggerates. 

Jackie lifts one hand to Jan’s cheek, drags her thumb across Jan’s bottom lip. 

“Why’s that?”. Jackie questions. 

But instead of answering, Jan just kisses her.

Finally kisses her. 

And she thinks that  _ that _ , is indeed fair. 

*****

They drive back to Jackie’s apartment, and as soon as the door is closed behind them, Jackie’s lips are back on hers. 

Jan feels her back hit the wood of the door frame, and hears the sound of Jackie’s cat Tybalt before she sees him. They’ve neglected to switch on any lights, and when she squints over Jackie’s shoulder she’s able to make out the sight of the white and ginger flecked cat glaring at her from the arm of the couch. His front legs are stretched out, paws needing the material, and his purrs grow louder the longer that Jan stares. In the low light, his usually blue eyes appear black, but they perk up when Jackie reluctantly peels her attention away from Jan in order to glare at him.

“Stop looking-”. Jackie scalds jokingly. 

“-Go back to sleep, I’m busy here”. She points an accusatory finger. 

And though it makes Jan laugh, it takes the attention away from her. 

“Could be busier, doll”. She bites, guiding Jackie back towards her. 

It has Jackie chuckling, and she mumbles a low  _ jealous _ that has no business having as much of an effect on Jan as it does. Jackie’s lips are on her neck, kissing and sucking and teeth grazing. Jan whimpers at the feeling of it, almost overwhelmed with the sensations that are building building building. The levels of wanting are ones that she’s never quite felt before and Jackie begins unbuttoning her shirt for her like it’s a fact that she’s more than aware of. It’s slow, careful, and when she gets to the last button, the last barrier between the both of them, she stops. 

“Can I take you to bed?-”. Jackie whispers. 

“-You deserve that”. 

And Jan could cry at the tenderness of it all, but instead she nods her head, begins pulling Jackie in the direction of the bedroom. 

“ _ Please _ ”. 

*****

Jackie lays Jan back amongst a sea of pillows, affection and lust. 

They switch on the lamp that sits on the bedside table, and then bathe in the warm orange slow. Unlike the light of the moon on the clifftops, the bulb illuminates Jackie’s hair in golds and bronzes and Jan feels rich. Jackie smiles at her as she slips Jan’s shirt down her shoulders, and places it delicately on the bed next to them. Jan’s shorts are quick to join it, and when Jan complains that she wants to see Jackie too, Jackie complies with an adoring kiss to Jan’s collarbone. She shrugs off her sweatshirt and then her sweatpants, and Jan is drowning in the beauty that drips from her. 

Because whilst Jan has always known that Jackie is gorgeous, the sentiment feels different when she straddles Jan in only a pair of plain, black cotton panties. She’s ethereal, her hair cascading down her shoulders. Sexy, her lips curling into a smirk that doesn’t quit. Loving, how she checks in with Jan each step of the way, communicates each movement that she makes. Jan is taken care of in a way that she never has been with  _ him _ and it means that she’s able to be present, active, an equal part of the need that's reverberating between the two of them. 

With Jan’s permission and encouragement, Jackie sheds Jan’s underwear. 

Jan blushes as crimson as the sheets of Jackie’s bed, but Jackie is nothing if not reassuring. She calms the worries and concerns that threaten to chip away at Jan’s mind, and rebuilds walls of confidence and certainty. Her lips pay homage to every bit of Jan’s skin that she’s able to reach and through breathy whines and choked out sobs, Jan manages a chorus of  _ pleases _ and  _ yeses _ . Jackie kisses her way down the planes of Jan’s stomach, to the swell below her navel. She nuzzles her nose against the soft skin and Jan finds her fingers entangled in Jackie’s curls. 

She tugs on them as Jackie settles between her legs, and then mewls when Jackie’s teeth gnaw gently at the juncture of her hip. 

“Jacks-”. Jan breathes.

Jackie’s lips are ghosting over her pubic hair, her arms hooked around her thighs. 

“-I’ve never been able to… y’know, like this”. She warns her. 

Her confession doesn’t deter Jackie. If anything, Jan knows that it reinvigorates her. She looks up at Jan with a renewed determination, hooded eyes that are drinking in every drop of her. The desire behind her gaze has Jan wet, writhing, and she thinks that she’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t for Jackie’s expression. She’s in awe yet smug, and remains caring despite harnessing a power that Jan knows is going to leave her wrecked. Jackie nods her head once more at Jan’s words, then places a featherlight kiss to the hood of Jan’s clit. 

“Trust me?”. Jackie checks.

Jan simply nods, threads the fingers of one hand with Jackie’s. 

Before Jackie’s mouth is on her. 

And Jan’s eyes are snapping shut. 

Jackie’s tongue against her feels like nothing she’s ever felt before. It’s firm but pliant, wet and warm, and Jan already wants to laugh at the absurdity of it. Jackie has her feeling what she hasn’t felt with anyone else in her almost thirty years and it brings tears to her eyes when Jackie squeezes her hand reassuringly. Jan forces herself to keep her eyes open, because watching Jackie as she laps her tongue against her, as she really  _ fucks _ her is more than worth the effort. Two of Jackie’s fingers join her mouth once she’s certain that Jan is open and ready, and Jan’s hips buck up at sensation. 

“Oh m’god”. Jan breathes. 

Jackie pulls away briefly to grin at her. 

“Feel ok?”. 

Jan groans at the lack of contact, tugs at the roots of Jackie’s hair. 

“So good-”. Jan pants. 

“-Keep going”. 

Never one to be told twice, Jackie does. This time, she wraps her lips around Jan’s clit, and Jan can’t fight to keep her eyes open any longer. She thrashes against Jackie’s touch, her fingers that feel like they’re reaching so deep inside of her. Jackie holds her down by their joint hands on her hip and hums, sucks harder. Jan feels the vibrations all the way to her chest, like she’s a speaker that’s playing on full volume. Her moans and whines bounce off of the walls and it shocks Jan that she’s the one making them, that Jackie is the one pulling them from her. She’s stood on the cliffs edge, ready to fall, and it’s Jackie’s words that push her over. 

“Let go, baby”. 

The muscles of Jan’s stomach tighten, and then she’s clenching around Jackie’s fingers, dripping onto the sheets and down Jackie’s wrist. She’s wetter than she thinks she’s ever been, even whilst touching herself, and it’s a testament to how attentive Jackie is as she fucks her through her orgasm. She keeps going even when Jan’s body becomes lax, and Jan barely notices when one orgasm bleeds right into the next, and then into another that makes her head spin. Her clit is throbbing, overly sensitive, but Jackie touches her in a way which succeeds in making her come even when she thinks she’s spent. 

They keep going like that, with Jan eventually guiding her hand between Jackie’s legs while they kiss. Jackie talks her through it, and grinds against Jan’s fingers to help her along the way. Jackie is as sensitive as Jan had been and each gliding pass of Jan’s index and middle finger across her folds, over her clit, makes Jackie grunt against Jan’s neck. She tells Jan when she’s close, and then whimpers when she comes, and Jan is filled with a strange sense of pride as they fold their limbs together, count the minutes on the clock and the freckles on each other's shoulders as they come down. 

“So-”. Jackie smirks. 

“-Did we beat your record of two?”. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on Tumblr @ jancox!


End file.
